


Didn't Tell You In Time

by IHaveNoUsernameCreativity



Series: OiFuta Week 2020 [4]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Apologies, Crying, Heavy Angst, I'm back to my roots and here's your dish of pain, M/M, Mental Breakdown, No Fluff, OiFuta Week 2020, Pain, Post-Break Up, Several of them actually, but are they accepted, oh yeah one other character shows up for a millisecond, pain for appetizer, pain for desert, switching POVs, with a side of more pain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:55:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27554956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IHaveNoUsernameCreativity/pseuds/IHaveNoUsernameCreativity
Summary: Oikawa and Futakuchi were never ones to move on.
Relationships: Futakuchi Kenji/Oikawa Tooru
Series: OiFuta Week 2020 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2006125
Comments: 7
Kudos: 5





	Didn't Tell You In Time

**Author's Note:**

> Hello. Welcome to pain. This time pain IS a competition and I'm going to write the most painful OiFuta week day 5 fic. I put no warnings but that doesn't mean you're safe.
> 
> I wrote this from 12-3 at night so I will be redoing this like a year from now or something. To a better quality. Can't think with this dead brain of mine. Because quality died in this fic

"I'm sorry."

Futakuchi's eyes are cold. "You called me out here for this?"

Oikawa winces, dropping his gaze to his hands, nails digging into his skin.

"I'm busy, y'know," Futakuchi sighs. "I don't have time to be talking to an ex."

Oikawa's nails are starting to burn into his skin, the flaring sensation the only thing he can focus on. He can't look Futakuchi in the eyes. He only follows the movement of Futakuchi's hand grabbing his coffee cup. He stares at the leather bracelet around Futakuchi's wrist. When the silence drags on it clicks in Oikawa's mind that he should respond.

"Sorry," Oikawa repeats dully.

Futakuchi's grip flexes over his cup, as if he's holding back. "Don't apologize. It's annoying."

Oikawa's shoulders bunch up more and he feels his nails break through skin. He's never felt so small. Cowering under the presence of someone he once felt so comfortable and safe with. He longs for that feeling. Longs for Futakuchi. The very person he broke up with.

"Okay," Oikawa whispers.

He glances up long enough to see Futakuchi clench his jaw but not a moment longer. He wonders if he should loosen his grip now.

"No offense but," Futakuchi shifts in his seat, "you look the most pathetic I've ever seen you."

Oikawa desperately searches for something familiar. The taunt. The snark. The teasing tone. Something that remains of the days when they would bicker back and forth, knowing they didn't actually mean their words. No avail.

 _'I am pathetic.'_ Oikawa thinks to himself. Here he is, making a desperate attempt for closure with an ex he broke up with months ago. If anything, Futakuchi should be the one who needs closure. Oikawa knows why he made the choice to break up. He knows why the closer they are to each other, the colder the distance between them gets. There's no safety here anymore. So Oikawa laughs, and it's dry and hollow. Tired. It's funny. He laughs harder, making a few people in the café turn to look at them.

"I know," Oikawa mutters.

Futakuchi taps his finger on the table, the fast rhythm overpowering Oikawa's ability to think. Oikawa's grip finally loosens and the burning pain subsides.

"So that's what you called me here for? To apologize?" Futakuchi's finger taps even faster. "For what? What's that going to do? It's not like it's going to fix anything."

"Yeah, I know." Oikawa shrugs, but his shoulders stutter with the motion from how tense he is. "But I thought I needed to apologize. You deserved better."

Futakuchi scoffs. "You want to make this about me?"

"Is it not?" Oikawa mumbles to his cup of coffee. His reflection stares back at him helplessly.

Futakuchi lets in a sharp breath through his teeth. "This isn't about me. This is you being selfish. I don't need an apology. I'm past everything already. You're not. You need to know if I forgive you or not for a sense of closure."

The truth hurts. Coming from lips that used to whisper "I love you" into the silence and that have been pressed against his in a form of almost reverence, truth is to fall from god to mortal. Oikawa doesn't think he'll survive the crash. He doesn't think he wants to survive the crash.

"I guess it is." Oikawa wants to laugh again but he bites back the urge.

"You've always been selfish." The scorn in Futakuchi's voice is to have the sun inside you, burning everything inside out.

"And you haven't?" Oikawa finally looks up.

The fragments of memories that Oikawa has clung onto fall into shape in Futakuchi's face. Except their void. Empty. This isn't the Futakuchi that he remembers. This isn't the Futakuchi he met or learned about. This is a Futakuchi that Oikawa has only seen targeted at the people Futakuchi can't stand. Oikawa's eyes start to sting and his lip quivers slightly but he doesn't look away. He doesn't look away from this stranger. Because this stranger has the face of someone who made him feel things he never felt before. Because this stranger is the one he wants to go back to how he remembers more than anything else.

Futakuchi's stare hardens and his shoulders go tense. "You're in the place to say that? You really think you can call me selfish?"

"Kenji-" Oikawa takes a deep breath. "Futakuchi." The name is acidic. "Just because I fucked up doesn't mean I can't notice things about other people."

"Right." Futakuchi stands up. "Because you always get to nitpick."

"Futa-" Oikawa reaches after Futakuchi as he walks away.

Oikawa stares down at his coffee again. Futakuchi's footsteps fade into the chatter of other noises. Silence. Oikawa takes a sip of his coffee.

It can't end like this. It was a stupid idea to ask Futakuchi to meet up. It was foolish. Desperate. An useless attempt to fix what's already lost. But Oikawa already made the mistake. And he won't let it end like this.

Oikawa scrambles out of his seat, running out the door. He looks both ways and the adrenaline makes him look too quickly. He takes a longer glance over the street and sees Futakuchi. Oikawa chases, keeping his eyes trained on the familiar silhouette. Oikawa grabs Futakuchi's wrist and tugs. Futakuchi stumbles. He whips his head around, confusion evident in his eyes and for one second, Oikawa gets to glimpse Futakuchi without a defense. The Futakuchi he remembers. The Futakuchi he longs to have back. The Futakuchi he loved and still loves.

Futakuchi walls build right back up the moment he recognizes Oikawa. His eyes stop with their flashes of emotion, his expression smooths over, his body straightens and is more tense.

"What do you want, Oikawa-San? Haven't done enough damage yet?" Futakuchi asks dryly.

Oikawa wants to speak but he chokes up. _'Oh god. Not now.'_ Oikawa wipes his eyes furiously but tears are welling up faster than he can get rid of them. _'Fuck.'_ The tears burn. His lungs ache. His heart is torn up. Crying hurts. Everything hurts.

"You have to be kidding me," Futakuchi grumbles.

Oikawa feels an arm around his shoulders guiding him away from the crowd. His vision is blurred from tears and he lets out choked gasps and sobs. His mind is cloudy and Futakuchi's scent is so close, so familiar, so much like safety that has been robbed from him that he can't have anymore. But Oikawa wants it back. Even for a minute. Even for a second. Even for the most fleeting moment.

Futakuchi says nothing as Oikawa clings to him. Oikawa hides his face in Futakuchi's shoulder, sobbing. The familiar smell fills Oikawa with memories but it only hurts worse. It only makes him see in vivid detail what he can't have. What he decided to give up. What someone else will eventually have. Yet he wants it to hurt. If pain is the price for the drug of nostalgia, Oikawa would overdose. And so he does. He lets Futakuchi's scent drown him, making the sobbing worse. Futakuchi doesn't move, but he doesn't embrace Oikawa. No matter how much Oikawa wants to be held by Futakuchi, that was a fantasy too detached from reality and Oikawa knew it. Futakuchi's embrace would be a distant memory forever. No prayer could breathe to life the delusion of a hopelessly lovesick man.

Once Oikawa manages to reel in his horrible sobbing, Futakuchi gently pushes him back and observes his face. Oikawa knows he looks terrible, but he can't find the energy to hide his face. Futakuchi sighs.

"I don't recall you being the type to break down in public," Futakuchi remarks.

"Yeah, I don't either," Oikawa sniffles. "People change, I guess."

"They do," Futakuchi says. He pauses awkwardly. "I should go."

"Yeah. You should." Oikawa nods.

Futakuchi backs away, casting one last glance at Oikawa before leaving him alone.

\----

Futakuchi's walk home is silent. The voices of people he weaved around and the sounds of life were falling to deaf ears. There was only static buzzing in Futakuchi's ears as he replays Oikawa crying on his shoulder. It takes him back to times he's left behind. _'More like ran away from.'_ A voice in his head taunts. Futakuchi ignores it. He's over it. He's moved past Oikawa. Their story ended and he moves on. Like he always has and always will.

Futakuchi slows to a stop, looking up at the sky. The day has no conscience to the emotions he's gone through, staying a bright blue with a few hazy clouds accenting the blue abyss. A happy, clear day to accompany a talk gone horribly wrong with his ex.

If he had moved on, would he have gone to meet up with Oikawa? If he had moved on, would Oikawa's slumped figure hurt so bad? If he has moved on, would he have wished Oikawa was still confident and cocky like he remembers? If he had moved on, would he have let Oikawa cry on his shoulder?

 _'I've moved on.'_ Futakuchi repeats to the sky, as if it would imprint there and become the holy truth. But that isn't the case.

"I've moved on," Futakuchi mumbles to himself, starting to walk again.

His thoughts chase after him, leering at him and mocking him. Futakuchi brushes them off as usual. If he hadn't moved on, he would've forgave Oikawa. If he hadn't moved on, he wouldn't have walked away. If he hadn't moved on, he wouldn't be fine walking home right now. If he hadn't moved on, he would've held Oikawa as he cried.

"It's fine." This time Futakuchi says it to the ground. "I'm fine."

His thoughts howl with laughter. But he ignores them.

\----

Oikawa closes the door to his apartment. It's too big for one person. It's meant for two. It's meant to be his and Futakuchi's apartment. And it was. For a while. But Oikawa messed up somewhere and eventually things escalated too far. Oikawa broke it off before it could get worse.

"It was better for both of us." Oikawa tells the picture frame hanging by the door.

The image of him and Futakuchi still sits in the picture frame. Oikawa reaches out to flip the frame over but he only stares at Futakuchi's smiling face. His hand drops back to his side and he kicks off his shoes, not bothering to put them where they belong. He heads straight for the bedroom.

The bed for two is neatly made, the blanket practically creaseless and the pillows fluffed up perfectly. Oikawa reaches over his own pillow and grabs the hoodie sitting on the other pillow, folded into a black rectangle. Oikawa buries his face in the soft material. Futakuchi's scent had long since faded from the hoodie but Oikawa tries to search for the familiar smell anyways. There's nothing. As usual.

Like he always does, Oikawa slips on the hoodie and goes over to the mirror to look at himself. The hoodie fits him pretty well, since he and Futakuchi are the same height. And technically the hoodie is his. He bought it for himself. Futakuchi simply got attached to it and Oikawa allowed Futakuchi to wear it all the time. Oikawa scrutinizes himself in the mirror and yet again decides that he doesn't like wearing the hoodie himself.

He folds the hoodie, dropping it back on the pillow Futakuchi used to sleep with. Oikawa slips into bed himself, worn down by the day. He stares up at the ceiling.

"Do you hate me, Kenji?" Oikawa asks the ceiling. "Who am I kidding? Of course you do. Why wouldn't you? I wish you didn't though."

Oikawa turns onto his side, staring at the space where Futakuchi would once smile back at him from. There's only an empty space there. Oikawa drags his finger along the hoodie.

"It was a dumb idea to ask you to meet up. I had no idea what I was doing. I just wanted to see you. But that didn't work out how I wanted either," Oikawa sighs. "I no longer have the right to see you anymore, so you put up walls. I just met up with a stranger today. It felt wrong. I never wanted to know what it was like to be hated by you."

He closes his eyes, trying to erase the version of Futakuchi he just met. He digs up the painful memories to repaint Futakuchi just how he remembers. Exactly how he had learned to recognize Futakuchi.

"I miss you."

\----

Ever since meeting up with him, Futakuchi can't have a waking moment without thoughts of Oikawa following him around. It's annoying. No matter where he goes, no matter what he does, Oikawa is buzzing around in the back of his mind.

He was never over it. He was running from it. He still is running from it. He's running away from these emotions and fears and the fact he still cares. If he pretends he doesn't care for long enough, he'll stop caring. It'll stop hurting. The thoughts mocking him will stop following him around. The universe will get bored of him and stop toying with him for its own amusement.

(It won't stop and he knows it.)

So he blames. It's Oikawa's fault. Completely Oikawa's fault. Oikawa's the one who fucked up. Oikawa's the one who broke up with him. Oikawa's the one who asked him to meet up and brought back all the feelings he had finally suppressed. Oikawa's the one who cried on Futakuchi's shoulder.

It's always easier to blame someone for everything.

\----

Futakuchi sees Oikawa at the top of the steps at a park. His back is to Futakuchi, his head tipped up toward the clear sky. Futakuchi stares. If he backs away, Oikawa won't ever know he was there. He shouldn't want to talk to Oikawa anyways. He hates Oikawa. He blames Oikawa. He never wants to speak to Oikawa again. Futakuchi stares.

"Tooru!"

 _'Shit.'_ Futakuchi winces at the use of Oikawa's first name.

Oikawa whirls around and his eyes meet Futakuchi's.

"Ken-"

Oikawa's foot slips.

Before Futakuchi can process what's happening, Oikawa is losing balance.

Oikawa falls.

\----

Futakuchi doesn't know if he screamed. All he knows is he reached out and didn't make it in time. Someone else screams.

He starts to run down the steps. He stumbles. He falls and he scrapes his knees. The noise of other people shouting is blaring in his ears. He wants them all to shut up. Futakuchi scrambles to a stop next to Oikawa. There's blood. Futakuchi's heart plummets.

"Tooru?" Futakuchi whispers weakly.

Oikawa's eyes flutter open, slowly finding their way to Futakuchi.

"Kenji?" Oikawa murmurs.

"Tooru!" Futakuchi searches for words. "Tooru, you're going to be fine. Just focus on me."

"Easy enough. You always catch my eye," Oikawa jokes, his wavering voice not matching his words.

"Shut up! Don't waste energy on stupid jokes like that!" Futakuchi carefully lifted Oikawa up, cradling Oikawa in his arms.

"Why?" Oikawa coughs, wincing at whatever pain that caused. "I think they're great last words."

"Fuck you, you're not going to die!" Futakuchi's eyes start to sting.

Oikawa blinks slowly, refocusing on Futakuchi. He takes a deep breath, his face twisting in pain.

"Hey, Kenji?" Oikawa mutters, struggling to get the words out. "Kenji, I..."

"Tooru, _please_ just save your energy," Futakuchi begs.

Oikawa ignores him. "Kenji... I love you."

 _I love_ you.

Tears spill. Futakuchi wants to slap Oikawa.

"Now's not the time to be fucking selfish!" Futakuchi draws Oikawa closer to him. "Don't say that!"

"Why? Do you hate me?" Oikawa's breathing was becoming staggered, weaker.

"No. I don't. And I'm sorry-" Futakuchi's breath caught in his throat when Oikawa's eyes started to zone out. "Tooru! Focus on me!"

Futakuchi couldn't think properly. All he could do is beg Oikawa to stay.

\----

The ambulance whisked Oikawa away to the hospital. Futakuchi is left at the bottom of the stairs with a dark patch on his pants, blood smeared on his arm, and blood streaks in front of him.

The day is still clear and sunny. He briefly notices the chirping of a bird. It's almost mockery. As if the possible loss of a life means nothing to the world. Which it doesn't. One life means nothing to the whole world. It would only hurt a few.

Futakuchi sits at the bottom of the steps for a while. Eventually, someone gets the courage to approach him and snap him out of his thoughts. Futakuchi brushes off the questions of concern and shakily gets to his feet.

He walks in a daze, unaware of the stares he gets as he walks where his feet carry him.

His feet carry him back to the apartment he used to live in with Oikawa. Futakuchi stands at the door for a while, staring blankly at it. It takes him several minutes to realize he still has a copy of the key. Futakuchi fumbles for the key, dropping it. He reaches down to pick it up and spends another minute staring blankly at the key to take it and open the apartment door. The whole apartment smells like Oikawa.

Futakuchi shuts the door and sits outside.

\----

He gets a phone call around evening from Iwaizumi. He picks up.

"Futakuchi?" Iwaizumi sounds uncertain.

"Mm," Futakuchi manages to hum.

"Uh, I heard you were there when it happened..."

_'It was my fault.'_

Futakuchi takes a deep breath. "Is Tooru okay?"

The silence he gets in response is already an answer.

Futakuchi hangs up.

\----

Futakuchi sits on the couch in the living room of Oikawa's apartment.

"So you fucking died on me, huh?" Futakuchi asks nothing. "After all that. You went and invited yourself back into my life by asking me to meet up. You looked pathetic as shit and you cried on my shoulder. For what?"

Futakuchi stands up. "You know what's funnier? Your last words to your ex of _several_ _months_ was 'I love you.'"

He kicks the couch. "Could you get any more selfish?! What the fuck am I supposed to do with that?! You're dead! You died because of me! If I hadn't said anything-" He chokes up. "If I just walked away you would still be alive right now, wouldn't you? I really can't blame this one on you, can I?"

He punches the wall, hissing at the pain that shoots up his arm. He does it again.

"I can't believe you just-" Futakuchi bites back a sob.

He sinks to the floor, trying to strangle his crying.

\----

Futakuchi can't bring himself to attend the funeral. Instead, he decides it's time to finally peak into the bedroom. He had been sleeping on the couch the whole time, too scared of opening the bedroom door.

The bedroom is filled to the brim with Oikawa's scent. Futakuchi wants to leave the moment he steps in. It hurts to be completely surrounded by something he can't have. Something unattainable. It's cruel. Everything he could've had is dangling right in front of him, laughing at his failure.

The picture frames still have images of him and Oikawa grossly in love. Everything is exactly as it was when Futakuchi left after the break up. Futakuchi takes a deep breath and instantly regrets it when Oikawa's scent burns into his memory even stronger. _'But this won't last forever. This is one of the last times I'll get to smell this. It'll fade away eventually.'_

Futakuchi's eye catches on a neatly folded hoodie sitting on the pillow that was once his. He wanders over to it. The hoodie stares at him, as if daring him to mess up the way Oikawa has left the bedroom. Futakuchi hesitates before reaching out and picking up the hoodie. _'This is Oikawa's hoodie that I always liked to wear.'_ Futakuchi glances back at the pillow. _'Did Oikawa sleep with this there?'_

With trembling hands, Futakuchi unfolds the hoodie and slips it on. It fits just like Futakuchi remembers. He closes his eyes and tries to remember what it was like a year ago, when he and Oikawa were still in love and living together. But the memories are blurry. He had suppressed them for so long they started to fade. Frustration starts to bubble up.

"Fuck!" Futakuchi sits down on the floor, dropping his head into his hands.

Where did everything go wrong?

\----

It takes three months for Futakuchi to visit Oikawa's grave. He visits on a rainy day, because he's sick of the sky taunting him with its bright blue skies.

Futakuchi stares at Oikawa's name on the grave. He's too scared to reach out and trace out the letters. He stares at the headstone, searching for the words to say.

"I'm sorry," Futakuchi starts. "After our breakup, I put all the blame on you even though you weren't completely at fault. I did a lot of things wrong too. You were right. Just because you messed up more than me doesn't mean you can't tell I messed up as well. And I'm sorry for being so rude when we met up. I was being defensive. I was scared. I had convinced myself I moved on already when I hadn't. I just didn't want to admit it. So I tried to push you away so that I wouldn't have any feelings resurface. But it was stupid to try to run away from my feelings. And I love you. I just wish that you didn't tell me you love me right before you died. And I wish I had known I should've told you all this a while ago. Maybe then none of this would've happened."

Not getting a response was only expected, but it hurts more than Futakuchi anticipated.

**Author's Note:**

> Heyyyyy *twirls hair* I hope you liked the angst. If you like my angst, pls check out At the Window, which is a WIP I have not updated in two months on AO3. But I will update soon :) We haven't gotten to the angst for ATW yet but when it does happen it'll be just as bad as this. If not, worse.


End file.
